Before I Ever Met You
by Oh Prairie Rose
Summary: "Well.. don't think I'm getting off on your misery," But in a sense that is precisely what Sharon does when she meets a young blonde cop in DC. Set way back when Brenda was still working for the MPD.
1. I

**Disclaimer:** I still do not own the lovely Brenda Leigh and her Sharon. Or _The Closer_. Or _Major Crimes_.  
**AN:** This story is set years back when Brenda was still working in DC. Her affair with Pope has just ended and she happens to meet Sharon in a chocolate infused surrounding.

* * *

She feels an unfamiliar sting at the back of her weary eyes; she likes to blame it on the third glass of deep red wine she is currently finding herself lost into. The lights were much brighter at the bar the blonde was leaning on, leaving the liquid to look almost scarlet. It is the vibrant red colour that hurts her eyes, she tells herself again before she takes one last swig, draining the glass as she lets the fine Merlot sway through her rather petite figure.

Leaving enough notes on the bar to take care of her very own hour of self-indulgence in one of the most high end bars of Washington D.C., the blonde makes an attempt to leave, careful not to let her expensive black dress linger longer on the dark velvet of the bar stool than necessary. As she reaches down for a giant black purse that was slightly out of proportion compared to her small frame, her aching eyes take in the sea of couples scattered around a variety of dimly lit tables.

She leaves the bar on a lonesome dark cloud surrounded by the laughter and whispers between lovers. A hint of bitterness lingers on her tongue but she once again blames it on the wine. It isn't until she is faced with the surprisingly crowded street that the tears that she had been gathering up since that afternoon are threatening to spill all over her rosy cheeks.

It was a good thing then that working for the CIA for seven years had taught Brenda Leigh Johnson not to feel threatened by anything, not even her very own tears. Guided by nothing but the streetlights, the blonde waltzes through the city, narrowing her brown eyes, crinkling her tiny nose and pouting her unmistakable full lips along the way.

All of a sudden the pout grows stronger as her eyes shift to a darker shade of brown the second she lets her nose lead the way to a vintage diner across the street. "Chocolate-cherry pie!" rolls happily from the blonde's lips as she pushes the glass door open. The small place is loaded with a wide variety of people and Brenda immediately notes with a certain satisfaction that this time, couples are more an exception than a rule.

Unfortunately, that also meant that there are no more coffee and pie loving seats available at the bar. The blonde stands fidgeting by the jukebox, her eyes scanning the diner, her pout growing stronger every second as she realizes that in addition to the packed bar, all of the red leather booths are occupied as well. She inwardly curses the families, deciding in her own selfish way that those children couldn't possibly be craving coffee and chocolate as much as she did.

As if on cue, two dark-haired teenagers bolt up from one of the booths to make their way towards the door, followed by a smart yet rough looking man of fifty-something who keeps on looking over his shoulder. The two teens come to a stop aside Brenda, waiting patiently for the man to catch up with them. As the man holds the door open for the youngest of the two, a handsome boy with a strong jaw and pale features, Brenda can't help but overhear him mutter to what she assumes are his children: "Don't worry about your mother, Ricky, she will come to her senses, she always does."

The blonde couldn't care less about the man, his children and their issues with the mother; she was on a mission. A resolute look gracing her face, Brenda walks over to the booth she had claimed all hers the second their previous occupants had passed right by her. Right as she is about to slide into the red leather seat, she notices that there is still someone sitting on the opposite side of the booth. A chestnut curtain of luxurious hair prohibits Brenda Leigh from studying the woman's face, much to the blonde's dismay.

She is this close to a delicious piece of pie – or maybe two - and this woman with Hollywood hair is not going to keep her from getting what she wants. Brenda coughs politely, trying to get the woman's attention, but the small figure didn't even flinch. Narrowing her eyes for the umpteenth time that evening, the blonde leans closer to the dark brown tresses: "Scuse me ma'am. Are you finished here?"

Brenda didn't know what she had been expecting when she addressed the woman, but she certainly hadn't counted on the two piercing eyes of the most beautiful shade of green that looked up from behind the curtain of hair. The blonde's immediate reaction is to stop breathing as she takes in the gorgeous pale face that is only centimeters away from her own. The owner of the green orbs is older than the blonde, but the latter feels her cheeks flush red as she realizes that she is at least ten times more beautiful than her young years were. As she studies the woman's impressive jaw, Brenda thinks to herself that she looks vaguely familiar.

A monotone, almost robotic "I'd like to finish my pancakes before I leave" ends the blonde's daze. Brenda Leigh recovers within seconds, sending her green eyed opponent the poutiest of all pouts, before cheerily responding: "Well then, would you mind some company? This place is awfully packed for a Wednesday night!" Before the chestnut haired woman could answer, Brenda was already reaching for the menu, whilst waving her hand in the air for a waiter to come get her order.

Her attention divided between the chocolate-cherry pie and chocolate-apricot pie on the menu, the blonde isn't exactly sure but she can almost swear she heard the brunette mutter in that same flat voice: "Doesn't seem like I have a choice now, do I?" A young girl in a red and white uniform dress prevents the chocolate craving woman from rewarding her companion with a grim reply. "Good evening miss! Welcome to Lita's! Can I take your order?"

"Hi! Yes, I.., I would like a piece of chocolate-cherry pie and a large coffee please." Brenda Leigh looks up at the waitress with sparkling brown eyes, her hands clasped in her lap, feeling her whole being relax for the first time that day. As the waitress nods and makes an attempt at clearing the empty plates off the table, the blonde notices that the other woman still hasn't touched her pancakes. With a voice sweet as sugar, she addresses the brunette once again: "Would you like another coffee to wash those down?"

For the second time that evening, Brenda feels those bright green eyes pierce right through her, but this time she thinks she can detect some warmth in them that was definitely lacking a few minutes prior. The waitress looks expectantly at the brunette until the latter flatly utters: "Another coffee, please." Brenda looks pleased with herself, somehow attributing it to her presence that the stoic woman was ordering another drink. Before the waitress can walk away, the blonde softly taps her elbow: "I think I'd like an extra piece of pie, thank you. Chocolate-apricot if you please, thank you!"


	2. II

"Aren't you gunna use that?" Brenda Leigh isn't deliberately trying to make conversation - she is genuinely interested in the honey that is pointlessly lingering by the equally untouched pancakes – yet she can't deny that she is somewhat intrigued by the owner of those piercing green eyes. And that voice. Even though she has hardly heard any words leave those thin lips, the blonde already considers herself addicted to the low timbre of the other woman's smooth voice.

The brunette merely frowns and pushes the honey towards the other side of the table, earning herself a big grin from her uninvited blonde companion. Brenda has already finished a good half of both her chocolate treats, her big brown eyes closing in ecstasy with every bite she takes. She doesn't necessarily mean to put on a show but she just can't help herself when there is chocolate involved and it certainly is a nice tiny bonus to know that her soft delicate moans might attract the attention of the other woman. Her eyes sparkle when she reaches for the honey, already feeling positively thrilled by the sweet fragrance of the golden liquid.

Her sensual dessert devouring act is interrupted by the brunette whose carefully enunciated: "Are you trying to overdose on sugar?"is the complete opposite of the sweet engaging expression that is gracing the other woman's face. Brenda worries her lip while she pours nearly all the honey in her large coffee mug before replying: "Oh, I just love everythin' sweet", her eyelids fluttering a little as she stretches her words.

Instead of bringing the mug to her luscious lips to indulge in the more sweet than bitter liquid, Brenda decides to let her gaze linger a little longer on the other woman. One of her fingers is tracing the rim of the coffee mug but the blonde doesn't notice the effortless motion until she follows the brunette's gaze and realizes to her surprise that those green eyes seem to have grown just a tad bigger as she slows down the pace of her finger.

Brenda feels as if she is caught in a slow motion sequence as she feels her mouth fall open the second the brunette darts her tongue out to innocently lick her lower lip. The flutter of butterflies in her belly so unexpected that the blonde automatically tightens her grip on the coffee mug, desperate to get some sort of control of at least something in her near surroundings. All the while she doesn't even realize that she has been holding her breath, until she feels her cheeks flush bright red, her pulse increasing rapidly while the pupils of her dark brown eyes grow impossibly wide.

Encouraged by the sudden spark of electricity between them, the women both open their mouth to say something but the sound is lost when the younger of the two lets out a small shriek as her honey flavoured coffee pours right out of her mug and right into her lap. For the second time that evening, Brenda Leigh feels her eyes widen in surprise. As she attempts to stand up, repeating "hot! hot! hot!" like a mantra, she feels a hand on the small of her back, a dimly hoarse voice whispering in her ear: "Ssst, everyone is watching."

She briefly wonders how the brunette has managed to get up to stand beside her in what seems like a matter of seconds, but her thoughts fade away as soon as she feels the hand on her back applying a gentle pressure. With a hint of confusion she stares into those mesmerizing green eyes, feeling her entire body tingle just from the touch of that surprisingly warm hand. She almost doesn't hear the other women over the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears. "Let's get you into the bathroom.."

"B..b..bathroom?" Brenda mentally kicks herself for stuttering like an infatuated teenager in the presence of the other woman, who slowly repeats herself: "Yes. Bathroom. Before your dress gets stained." The words come out rather cold, with a hint of impatience, but the blonde still feels as if her body is going to burn right up. Motioning the two of them through the diner, the brunette's hand never loses contact with Brenda's back, sending shivers up and down the young woman's spine.

"Are you cold? Did the coffee burn you?" Emerald eyes filled with worry study the blonde's face intently. Brenda is pretty sure the other woman can stare right into her soul and she momentarily fears that her uncontrollable physical reaction towards the brunette is written all over her, so she turns around quite quickly, focusing on her own reflection in the mirror.

Still afraid of saying something stupid, Brenda uncharacteristically decides to say nothing at all. She silently studies her features in the bathroom mirror, trying to put on her best poker face instead of looking like a deer caught in headlights. _Damn it, Brenda Leigh, get yourself together._

Her little moment of self encouragement is bluntly interrupted when she feels a warm hand softly caress her knee, her mouth instantly going dry at the sensation. Before she truly grasps what is happening, the blonde feels her dress carefully being lifted into the sink. The brunette's hand has left her back – although Brenda swears she can still feel the touch burn through the delicate fabric of her dress– and is now fumbling with the tap, clearly attempting to rinse the coffee out of the unfortunate garment.

"Oh!" Brenda says softly. The other woman hums as she looks up from over the rim of her dark glasses, repeating the "Oh?" with the hint of a question mark. When the blonde doesn't elaborate, the older woman simply returns her attention to the dress. "The coffee isn't going to be a problem.. but the honey is something else. How much did you pour into that cup anyway?" Sounding more defensive than she intends to, Brenda shrugs her shoulders and pouts: "I told you, I love sweet things."

Brenda begins to feel a little uncomfortable in the small bathroom so she decides to help the other woman with her dress so that they can go back to their desserts. She reaches for the soap, pouring a generous amount into the palm of her hand before releasing the flowery fragranced matter onto the skirt of her dress. Her hand lightly brushes the brunette's fingers and while Brenda revels in the sweet sensation of touching the other woman, no matter how briefly, the brunette jerks her hand away as if the dress suddenly caught fire.

"What are you doing?" The older woman looks at Brenda with a vague notion of horror in her eyes. Suddenly, the overconfident blonde feels chiefly vulnerable, regret and confusion racing through her as her eyes threaten to spill warm tears. _Don't cry Brenda Leigh, don't you cry!_ Anticipating that the other woman might read her panic-stricken features, the blonde once again diverts her head, her shoulders slumping a little.

"You can't go and put soap on that dress! It's delicate material and now you've ruined it!" The desperation drips from the older woman's voice, causing the blonde to turn around and look at her dress, which was starting to look less and less appealing as white circles were forming all over its skirt. The brunette tries in vain to rinse the soap out of the initially black dress, before raising her hands in the air, repeating: "You've ruined it!"

As realization hits her that the other woman was merely getting worked up over her dress causes Brenda's heart to pick up its pace again. Relief settling in, the younger woman starts giggling at the sight of the brunette looking all upset over a dress that isn't even hers. Her hand reaches out to gently touch the other woman's wrist. "Don't worry, it's okay. I don't care about the dress. Thank you for trying to save it, but it's okay, really."

The brunette absent-mindedly rubs her temple with one hand, the other one still resting loosely in the other woman's grip. Brenda Leigh softly caresses the inside of her wrist, feeling pleasantly surprised by the knowledge that this time the formerly distant brunette doesn't pull away. "My brand new ex-boyfriend gave me this dress. He said he liked the way I look in black."

The blonde isn't entirely sure why she is pouring her heart out to a complete stranger in a public bathroom but the words simply seem to pour from her lips. She can feel the other woman stare at her in surprise, encouraging the younger woman to continue with her soft hums and barely-there smirk.

"I think I look much better in pink, you know." Brenda completes her personal outburst with a soft smile. When she notices that the other woman's lips twitch - preceding what she hopes will be a smile – she puts on a pout."I really do!" This time a full-on smile appears on the brunette's lips and Brenda Leigh decides there and then that it might be the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

Her fingertips softly trace a path from the woman's wrist to the inside of her hand, causing the brunette to hum with appreciation."You should smile more often," Brenda blurts out with a cheeky grin. She diverts her attention to their joined hands and she is convinced that she can feel the warmth of the other woman's intense gaze on her, before the latter gently pulls away, husking: "Well.. don't think I'm getting off on your misery."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Brenda sighs with confidence, "Although I think I've already reached that stage where I can go on mocking myself for being stupid enough to think he would ever leave his wife for me." When she gets no immediate reaction, the blonde looks up at the older woman who is staring straight at her. Just as Brenda atypically fears that she might have overstepped a line by sharing her bitter feelings on the ex-boyfriend matter, the other woman's hand gently touches her elbow."You want to talk about it?"

Brenda Leigh is convinced that surprise is written all over her face, but this time she doesn't mind that the other woman might read her like an open book. She nods happily, taking the brunette up on her offer. As they leave the bathroom, the older woman makes way towards the bar, asking Brenda if she wants a new coffee. The blonde smiles approvingly and before the other woman can turn around, she adds with a sparkle in her eyes: "Don't forget the honey!"


End file.
